


Mess

by untouchablerave



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchablerave/pseuds/untouchablerave
Summary: 6th year, a reckless Gryffindor party later and Dean and Seamus can't quite keep their feelings from each other.





	

It’s all a mess of hands, of teeth, but all Dean cares about is how good Seamus tastes. It's a mix of strawberries, champagne and the rush of adrenalin that they might get caught. Seamus is drunk, and so is Dean – and his brain just won’t shut up. Dean’s hands are all over Seamus’ body and he’s wondering about how consensual this actually is... because Seamus might regret this in the morning, and isn't this technically taking advantage - but the Seamus is kissing him back and all is forgotten.

It’s a mess of having-a-hard-on-as-stiff-as-wood and being slammed against the wood of the door, making sure no one is going to disturb them. Dean is wondering if he wants to be caught or not, or at least halt this illicit affair in someway because his hands are shaking a little bit and it’s definitely not a sugar rush from Fred and George’s sweets.

It’s a natural high, Seamus' Irish charm drinking him in and luring him into a sense of security, or sex-curity and pushing him roughly against any hard surface and grinding his crotch into Dean and – oh why is his brain still talking?

It’s a mess of shortness of breath and lip biting, but Dean doesn’t care if Seamus draws blood because as far as he’s concerned he is Seamus’ to do with as Seamus pleases with. Bite, lick, suck, fuck, he doesn’t care as long as it’s something because the fabric restriction is so far past uncomfortable it’s actually more arousing…

It’s a mess of a battle of tongues. Seamus’ hand is on his jugular and he can feel his pulse under the pads of his finger tips and his heart is racing, just like he is racing, and how they’re racing against each other for one of them to back down and it’s then that Dean realises he doesn’t. want. to.

Because he could just keep nibbling on Seamus' earlobe forever, hearing the sound of Seamus gasping in response. 

And there’s no time for talk because talk is cheap and this means so much more. Plus if Dean actually has a chance to say anything he might fuck this up, well he wouldn’t know exactly what to say, he may even say ‘I Love You’. 

It’s ridiculous and this is probably a pity-fuck from Seamus considering he’s just broken up with Ginny.

Ginny’s a perceptive one, he’d give her that, at least someone realised before he did and he would’ve been mortified if it had been anyone other than him or Seamus, but at least it was Ginny. God he loves Ginny... just not like that. 

There are too many words swirling around his brain and it’s a sort of all or nothing feeling and he just wants to forget and enjoy. Because Seamus’ hands are down his pants and it’s glorious and he doesn’t know how long it’s going to last because let’s face it, when Seamus is sober he’s hetro as fuck and Dean’s just clinging onto every bit of Seamus he can gather.

And he’s drunkenly rambling.

And Seamus tugged on his lip, and all other thoughts just go out of the window.


End file.
